


Into the Great Wide Open

by ajremix



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: Len decides to try a bit of camping. Spoilers: it doesn’t end well.ColdWave Week Day 2: You Captured My Heart





	Into the Great Wide Open

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Tom Petty song. Also please ignore the fact that I forgot about the lack of mountains along the Kansas-Missouri border, oops.

“Len!” At the sound of his partner calling his name in distress, Len took off like a shot toward it. He ducked around trees, jumping roots and large rocks, trying to remember the path he’d taken, cursing to himself for not realizing when Mick had fallen behind. “ _Len_!”  
  
He found Mick, half sprawled on the ground, and busted out laughing.  
  
“Shut up, asshole!” Mick snapped, face red either from embarrassment or trying to free his leg from a thick patch of mud. “Help me outta this!”  
  
“You can face down mob muscle and entire squads of cops, but it’s overly friendly  _mud_  that takes down the great Mick Rory.”  
  
“I’ll burn you in your sleep,” was the petulant retort.  
  
Len gingerly knelt by Mick at the edge of the mud. He gave Mick’s leg a tug, then a harder one. “You know, it’ll be easier if you just give up the boot.”  
  
“Well I guess I’m gonna fucking die here because there’s no way in hell I’m tromping through a damn forest without shoes.”  
  
“So dramatic.”  
  
“Shut up and help me, dammit. This is your fault anyway.”  
  
He snorted, wiggling Mick’s leg to try to get a little room to work with. “It’s a camping trip. You’re not being kidnapped.”  
  
“You literally told me you were kidnapping me to go camping.”  
  
“Only because you refused to do it willingly. Aren’t you some kind of country bumpkin?” Len teased as he slowly worked Mick’s foot free. “I thought roughing it was in your blood.”  
  
“Camping sucks. The country sucks. Do you have any idea how goddamn dark it gets out here? You’re basically blind.” Mick huffed, carefully scooting back on his butt once his foot- and boot -were out of the mud. “Can’t believe some city bum wants to go camping.”  
  
“Yeah, well.” Len’s expression grew soft and melancholy. “It was one of those things my grandpa talked about taking me to do.” But it never happened, Mick knew. The man had basically worked himself to death trying to care for his grandchildren behind Lewis’s back.  
  
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into being uncomfortable and miserable for half a week,” Mick groused. Just as he hoped, it made Len crack a smirk. “There’s a reason people live in cities, you know.”  
  
“Getting away from it helps you appreciate those modern conveniences.”  
  
“I’m very appreciative. Can we go now?”  
  
Chuckling, Len slapped Mick’s shoulder as he stood up and started back on the path again. “If you want to find your own way back to the car, be my guest.”  
  
Mick hesitated before following grudgingly after. “I don’t trust you not to get your bony ass eaten by a bear.”  
  
“Glad to hear it.” Len looked over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “After all, I did kidnap you for this trip so you can keep me warm at night.”  
  
Mick growled, eyes growing dark. He sped up until he was right behind Len, pressed against his shoulder. “We should hurry up and find a camping spot. Test it out. Make sure it’ll be comfortable for tonight.”  
  
Len just laughed at him.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Between the drying mud making it difficult for Mick to bend his ankle fully, a misplaced step twisting the other one just enough it twinged with every other step and walking face first into a branch because he hadn’t been paying attention, Mick was just as miserable as he said he’d be when Len finally decided to set up camp. To make up for the crappy trek, he let Mick make the fire as big as he wanted.  
  
“Just don’t let it get out of control,” he told Mick before grabbing the fire bucket and a spade to dig up dirt to put the fire out with later. Mick grumbled- just for show -and all but bounded into the trees like a kid in a toy store.  
  
While Mick did that, Len found a nearby stream- right where the map said. It was crystal clear and cold enough to shock Len’s teeth when he stuck his hand in it. Snow melt, he read, but it hadn’t really occurred to him just how cold it would be. Mick would hate it, he decided with amusement. He filled up his water bottle in the stream as well as a large container for general use. It was only about a quarter mile from where they’d set up but it would still be a bother making that walk every time they wanted water for mundane things like washing their hands.  
  
After that Len went about setting up the camp: putting up the tent- which Mick had to help him with because while the instructions were easy, the poles very much did not like bending that way -unrolling the sleeping bags, putting out things like the lantern, toiletries and a shotgun- which Mick refused to come without because there are goddamn wild animals out here and a little knife isn’t going to stop most of them, Lenny -in easy reach. Then stringing a hammock between a couple trees and setting the bear-proof canister on the outskirts of the camp. Len didn’t actually know if bears were that much of an issue in this area but when Mick saw it, he swore up and down he’d never go camping with Len. Which lead to lugging around the shotgun.  
  
By the time the camp was to Len’s liking, the sun was starting to set and Mick had finally gotten the fire pit to  _his_  liking.  
  
“Really, Mick,” Len teased as he broke out the skewers, marshmallows and chocolate because what good, non-arson-related fire was complete without s’mores? “They’ll be able to see this from space.”  
  
“Be a crappy view for ‘em,” came the distracted reply, Mick focusing on setting up the kindling.  
  
The fire, even Len had to admit, was impressive. And it brought Mick’s good humor back. They had a couple cold sandwiches and chips for dinner given the fire, according to Mick, was too hot. Anything they’d try to cook on it would be burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. They demolished half the bag of marshmallows, mostly by eating them but a fair few became projectiles that Len later scooped up and tossed in the fire to keep hungry critters from wandering into their camp.  
  
After their earlier hike just getting to the site, it didn’t take long for the sugar crash to set in. They put out the fire, put on their pajamas and slipped into the sleeping bags Len had zipped together. A chill was beginning to set but, between the thick layers, small space and shared body heat, Len thought it might end up getting stifling in the tent. The thought stayed in the back of his head as he began to drift off to sleep, face pressed against the curve of Mick’s back.  
  
“...Len?” Len just made a muffled noise in acknowledgement. “The ground’s too hard and it’s too damn noisy. I can’t sleep.”  
  
Scowling against Mick’s back, Len let his hand flop forward until he could slap it over Mick’s mouth.  
  
While that had been sufficient hint for Mick to shut up during the night, it didn’t stop Mick from tossing and turning. Which, in turn, kept Len from doing more than dozing. In the end, just as the morning birds were starting to sing and the temperature in the tent went from warm to boiling, Len unzipped his half of the joined sleeping bag and tried to salvage what sleep he could on the hammock.  
  
When he finally woke up not all that long later, Len was cranky, tired and sore. Mick, looking just as cranky, tired and sore, said from where he was cooking breakfast over a small fire, “I told you. Being in the country fucking sucks.”  
  
He ended up burning breakfast because something something, open fires are harder to regulate temperature than grills. Len was too irritable to care as he gnawed on plain bread, burnt eggs and a dry granola mix. Even with his food history it was a pretty bad meal. Afterward, Len walked to the stream to wash up. There was still plenty in the container he filled the day before but he figured he’d use the time away from Mick to calm down a bit. After all, it wasn’t his partner’s fault that the ground- and hammock -were terrible to sleep on. Maybe next time, if there ever was one, Len would consider an air mattress worthwhile to lug around.  
  
Len returned to find Mick was staring deeply at the fire. After putting his stuff away and dressing for the day, Len stood and surveyed his surroundings. “The hell do people do out here?” He asked.  
  
“Nothing,” Mick replied, gaze not wavering. “There’s not a goddamn thing  _to_  do.”  
  
If Len didn’t know any better, he’d think maybe Mick’s pyromania was a result of boredom. “Do you want to go for a hike?” When Mick gave him an incredulous look, Len shot back, “There’s nothing else to do so why not?”  
  
Mick continued to glare. In the end, though, he reached for the fire bucket and upended it over the fire. Len couldn’t help the warm smile as he overheard Mick mutter, “Can’t believe I’m in love with you.”  
  
The hike wasn’t too bad though Len’s internal map was off just enough that they couldn’t find the camp for a good half hour. By then the sun was just reaching its apex, leaving them both sweating and out of breath. Len grabbed their toiletries and told Mick, “Let’s wash up before lunch.” Mick, blatantly eyeing Len, growled in agreement.  
  
They reached the stream and Mick immediately pulled off his shirt, intent obvious. Len stifled a snicker as he dipped a washcloth in the stream, got it nice and wet, then slapped it against Mick’s bared chest. Mick yelped loudly, jumping back and pulling the cloth off him. “Fuck, that’s cold!” Len just cackled at him, lathering up his own washcloth. “I fucking hate you,” Mick said just before he retreated a good ten feet away, muttering about how his dick was going to shrivel up inside his body.  
  
Lunch was a simple affair of roasted hot dogs and buns toasted on the outskirts of a fire. That still left an awful lot of hours with nothing to do, however. When Len got back from cleaning up their lunch, he found Mick in the hammock, reading a book.  
  
He looked up at Len’s approach. “Wanna join me?”  
  
Len’s back twinged in protest but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. He grabbed his own book and, after nearly capsizing the hammock three times on his way in, settled against Mick’s side. They stayed like that until the sun began to set.  
  
That night they layered the sleeping bags one on top of the other. It didn’t leave a lot of room for the both of them to lay together and they’d be chilly until the tent warmed up but there was a little extra padding. It still was hardly comfortable but it at least got them through the night.  
  
Still without anything to do, they went for another hike the next day. Instead of washing up at the stream, though, Len filled up a couple of bowls with water and brought them over to the afternoon fire to warm up while Mick cooked. After eating, with Mick eyeing the bowls with confusion, Len tested the temperature of the water. Deeming it acceptable, he began unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
“Uh, Lenny?” Mick asked, clearly confused.  
  
Len let the shirt slip off his shoulders, giving his partner a coy smile. He wetted a washcloth. “You do me, I do you?”  
  
“Are you seriously trying to seduce me with basically a sponge bath?”  
  
“Only if it works.”  
  
Mick stared at him for a moment. “Fuck it, I’m easy.” He pulled off his shirt and hummed in approval at the first swipe of the warm cloth against his skin.  
  
That night Len lounged in the tent, content, naked and- for once -unself-conscious, watching as Mick cooked dinner in nothing but a pair of boxers.  
  
Something both of them quickly came to regret after waking up covered in bug bites.  
  
Mick had a hand down his pants in a way that wasn’t remotely sexy, scratching at a bite high on the inside of his thigh. “Can’t believe we’re out here for two more damn days.”  
  
Len, in the midst of rubbing his back against a tree to get a trio of bites right under his shoulder blade, silently agreed.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
“Oh, look,” Lisa said casually from her place on the couch. “You two survived.” She gave Mick a shit-eating grin. “I guess camping isn’t as bad as you made it out to be.”  
  
“Next time he kidnaps me for a camping trip,” Mick growled, “I’m dragging you with me. See how smug you are after that.”  
  
Lisa patted his arm, not even trying to hide her amusement. “I’ll be sure to steal any camping books he picks up so you can burn them.” She turned to Len as Mick stomped off to set down their gear. Her eyebrow raised. “Well? Everything you hoped it would be?”  
  
“Overrated,” Len admitted. His eyes drifted after Mick, thinking about the mornings in that little tent, warm and isolated, like the world was just the two of them or the afternoons they spent in the hammock reading to each other. He thought about Mick stripped and pliant as Len washed him, body gleaming with water and sunlight. He thought about the evenings by the fire as night fell, sitting between Mick’s legs and leaning against his chest, Len singing softly and Mick as enthralled by Len’s voice as he was by the fire. “But it had its highlights.”

 


End file.
